Mark Del Franco - Face Off

“Of course. That’s not why I am telling you. I’m curious why someone high-level suspected something, but nothing seems to have been done to prevent it.”

“High-level?” Laura said. She had to. Jenna made the slip—claiming she didn’t know the caller, then identifying it as someone high-level.

“I’m confirming that. I thought I’d let you know, though. I’d appreciate it if you would provide me with any information when you can,” she said.

A deal, Laura thought. Not a deal with the devil that the public might think. Jenna had told her something important, something she hadn’t reported and was letting Laura know that a two-way communication might benefit them both. It would, but neither of them could come right out and say that. “Of course, Jenna. I’m sure we’re all interested in the truth here.”

Jenna nodded. “Of course. It’s a question that needs answering.”

Laura gave her a brief friendly touch on the arm. “I’ll let you know.”

She walked into the back room, and Saffin closed the door behind her. “Everything all right?” she asked.

Laura sighed as she removed her wireless microphone. “It was nothing.”

Saffin worried enough about her. She didn’t need to add to it unnecessarily.

As Laura made her way to the elevator, she wondered who the high-level person was and where. Guild? American government? InterSec? Someone, indeed, knew something and hadn’t said anything. Jenna was right to wonder why. It was a good question.

First, she had to face other questions. As she rode up to Draigen’s floor, she knew that Mariel Tate’s day wasn’t going to get better.

LAURA WASTED NOtime getting upstairs. Under normal circumstances, she would never risk transitioning personas near a public area, but the macCullens were waiting for Mariel Tate. With no concern for courtesy, she forced two people out of an elevator and activated her glamour. When a failure in security happened, the last place she wanted to be was out of the room while others made their cases.

Draigen stood at the wide window of her suite, looking out across the Mall. Behind her, her brothers’ voices rose and fell as each made his points. Since the return from the White House meeting, they had argued over which of them had been in the best position to prevent the assassination attempt. Laura did not miss the subtle criticisms thrown her way as Aran and Brinen bickered. Neither did Terryn.

“Mariel has extensive experience in security, at this building in particular,” Terryn said.

“Then how did we become so easily exposed?” Brinen asked.

“I was presented with cleared staff,” Laura said. It was a statement that masked her own criticism. The sniper had been found before Draigen reached the White House. In the attic of an office building up the street from the Guildhouse, a dead man had been found with a recently fired rifle. The man—an Inverni fairy named Sean Carr who had been attached to Aran’s staff—had died from an essence-bolt to the chest.

“A plan destroyed by one man is a poor plan,” Aran said.

Laura maintained her composure. Despite her own feelings of doubt, she was not about to take the sole blame for what had happened. “I recommended an integrated staff consisting of InterSec, Guild, and Guardian officers. I was overruled.”

Draigen turned from the window, one eyebrow arched in threatened insult as she looked at Terryn. “Is she implying a question of loyalty with respect to our staff prior to this?”

Terryn shook his head. “We prefer to use integrated staff to keep units on alert. People unfamiliar with each other tend to be more observant of each other.”

“People unfamiliar with each other tend not to work well together,” Brinen said. He had insisted on a Guardian-only security force.

Draigen turned back to the window. “Interesting.”

Laura rubbed her forehead. “If I may, the team composition was a philosophical and strategic difference of opinion and is now a moot point. The question isn’t so much how it happened but why. Answering how merely fixes a flaw in procedure. Answering why might prevent any future attempts.”

Terryn craned his head toward Draigen. “Speaking of which, after what happened today, I would prefer you not stand at the window like that.”

Draigen tilted her head to observe something outside. “Cities never sleep. Sometimes I think when we moved from the country to the city, our priorities changed in an unfortunate way. We began thinking less about our homes and started worrying more about what our neighbors were doing.”

“I’d worry more about the lack of security in this building,” Aran said.

Draigen chuckled as she withdrew from the window and took a seat on the empty sofa. “Aran, brother, the attack came from outside the building.”

Annoyed, Brinen glanced at his brother. “And I’d worry more about who is a friend and who is an enemy.”

“Your taunts tire me, Brinen. My people are as loyal as yours,” Aran said.

“Except Sean Carr, of course,” Brinen said.

Aran glared. Sean Carr had been found and identified within minutes of the attempt on Draigen’s life. “I cannot speak for the thoughts of one man, brother, but I will defend my people with every breath.”

Brinen grunted. “Yet I am the one with a bullet wound.”

“You should be resting,” Terryn said.

Brinen shrugged with a slight wince. “The bullet did not cause major damage and was easily removed. The healing spell is working.”

“What can you tell us about Sean Carr, Aran? Why would he do this?” Terryn asked.

Aran shook his head. “I don’t know. These are troubled times, brother. They breed troubled minds.”

“In some more than others,” Brinen said.

Aran pushed away from the table and stalked to the door. “There is a reason for what happened, and we will find it. Until that becomes the focus of discussion, I will not hear any more of these accusations.”

He slammed the door as he left. A bitter smile curled on Brinen’s lips. “I’m sure he’ll start with his own staff.”

“Enough, Brin,” Terryn said.

Draigen sighed. “Yes, enough. Pray, get some rest, Brinen. We have much to do in the next few days, and I would prefer you strong.”

Brinen stood and bowed. “As always, sister, I abide by your wishes.”

He favored a short bow to Terryn as well, then closed the door quietly behind him as if to distinguish himself from his brother.

Draigen sighed. “They will argue to the ends of the world.”

“The fact remains, sister, you were attacked by one of our own, regardless whose subclan he was from,” Terryn said.

She poured herself a cup of tea from the service on the low table in front of her. “I was attacked by someone suborned. Aran is correct. Shifting politics make for uncertainties.”

“I apologize for my lack of depth on the subject, but are you saying the Inverni are not united in the effort to gain U.S. support?” Laura asked.

Terryn did not change his expression, but amusement flickered across Draigen’s face. She lowered her tea and rested her hands in her lap. “And she touches another family dispute.”

“Draigen did not want to meet with the president,” he said. “She was concerned it would appear as a weakness to solicit human aid.”

Vindicated apparently, Draigen smiled a small smile. “I acquiesced to my brother’s wishes on the condition I move quickly before political opposition at home solidified.”

“Is the opposition coming from within your own clans?” Laura asked.

“Unfortunately, yes,” said Terryn.

Draigen waited for him to continue. When he did not, she retrieved her tea and sipped. “The Inverni are a complicated people, Agent Tate. Clan strife defines us. Under the present circumstances, there are clans, such as the Alfreys, who feel that the Seelie Court has already declared war against us. There are also clans who feel the matter can be worked out diplomatically. I believe this trip has found ill favor among the former.”